


Occam's Razor

by Chash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bachelor Auction, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 10:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8159605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: As far as Bellamy's concerned, bachelor auctions are creepy, even if they're for a good cause. But it's Octavia's cause, and she's his baby sister, so of course he agrees.He didn't think Clarke was going to be there. And he definitely didn't think she was going to bid on him.





	

As with so many things Bellamy ends up doing even though he knows better, he agrees mostly because Octavia begs him.

"Come _on_ , Bell! It's for a good cause."

"It's fucked up," he says, crossing his arms. "Who does bachelor auctions anymore? Aren't those just--weird?"

"It's not just bachelors. It's also bachelorettes. We're doing equal-opportunity auctioning."

"If you're trying to sell me on this, it's not working. It's still creepy and weird."

"It's not, actually," she says, patient. "It's a great idea." Before he can protest, she holds up her hand. "First, it's not _just_ auctioning off bachelors and bachelorettes. We're going in with local businesses. They're donating meals, tours, stuff like that, and some amount of money to the shelter. A lot of the people are even donating something they can get involved in. So you're not just bidding on a date with an attractive stranger, you've got a built-in activity that also benefits local businesses. It's a really good cause that's going to benefit a lot of people. And all you have to do is offer to give someone a private tour of the museum. It's something you _like_."

Giving someone a private tour of the museum sounds so much better than being auctioned off as a bachelor. "Why don't they just bid on the tour? Why is it about a date with me? The museum speaks for itself."

Octavia rolls her eyes. "No, it doesn't. No offense, Bell, I love the museum and you do too, but it's not really fun or sexy. It's a historic house. When you hear _private tour of historic house museum with the director_ , you're picturing some old lady telling you about boring stuff no one cares about."

"So, you're saying the museum isn't sexy, but I am."

"I hate to have to break it to you, but yeah. Seriously, though, it's a good idea. You know it's a good idea. And it's a good opportunity for the museum to get some free publicity. Win/win."

"It's not a win for _me_ ," he grumbles. But even that isn't entirely true; he's not enthused about having to be involved himself, but Octavia is almost certainly right. Auctioning off a tour would make almost no money on its own. With him attached, it might actually do all right, and it would be good publicity. They can always use all the publicity they can get. And what's good for the museum is good for him. He loves that museum.

Octavia's just watching him, unimpressed, and he sighs. "What exactly am I signing up for?" he asks.

In her defense, her smile isn't even _that_ smug. "Private tour of the museum for the highest bidder. Maybe dinner after? What do you think?"

"You actually care what I think? Sounds like you have it all figured out."

"I think we'd make more money if we threw in the dinner, but if you'd hate it too much, I'll skip it."

He sighs. "If you've got a dinner donation you can use, throw it in. Why the fuck not. But you owe me."

"I do owe you," she says, cheerful. "You're the best! I'll let you know what you signed up for and when we need you, okay?"

"Sure," he mutters. "Can't wait."

*

The nice thing about the auction is that he doesn't really have to do anything with it. He's agreed to stand up and be sold off, but all he has to do with that is show up. At some point, he'll have to give someone a tour of the museum and get dinner with them, but that's one day of his life. That, plus the auction itself, and he gets points for being a good brother and some amount of good PR for the museum. Much as he hates to admit it, he's actually feeling pretty good about the whole thing, by the time the actual event is rolling around.

The good will lasts all of two minutes after he gets there, because he spots Clarke Griffin.

Not that there is, in all honesty, any reason for the sight of Clarke to upset him. It's not surprising that she's here; she and O are friends, and O was pretty aggressively getting anyone she could to sign up. Clarke is single, attractive, and well-known in the community, so she seems like a good candidate. And it's not like Bellamy hates her or anything. _Hate_ is a very strong word. But he's happier not seeing her, because they got off on the wrong foot, and he knows it was in large part because he was being a dick. She could have reacted better, but instead the both doubled-down, and now every time they see each other, they snipe. It's usually the friendly kind of sniping, but--well, it still makes him feel like a failure. He's an adult; he should be able to resolve this.

It doesn't help that his reaction to seeing her is to go over to bug her. This is _why_ she makes him feel so incompetent. Instead of being a nice, normal person, he feels this pathological need to get on her nerves.

"Are people bidding to not date you?" he asks, and she snorts. It even sounds half amused.

"That's what you're going with? Weak, Blake."

"Not my best, yeah," he admits. "You have anything better?"

"Octavia told me your tour is so boring she had to throw you in to make anyone want to bid on it."

"I raised an asshole."

She smirks. "Takes on to raise one."

"That was pretty good. What comes with you?"

"What, you don't think I'm enough all by myself?" He raises his eyebrows, and she smiles. "Lincoln donated a bunch of meals. I think yours is at his place too. But yeah, I just come with the dinner. No bonus content."

"Honestly, I'm half-expecting people to ask if they can just get the dinner and skip the tour."

She pats his shoulder, consoling. "Don't worry. Just ask Octavia to let you talk for a few minutes first and everyone will realize you're not that much of a draw either."

"Is that how you're going to do it?"

"No way. I'm keeping my mouth shut. I want your sister to make money."

"Very noble of you."

He can't quite read her smile. "It's a good cause, right? We all have to do what we can."

Octavia climbs up on stage before he can respond, tapping the microphone for silence. There's a pretty decent crowd of people waiting, all of whom are very attractive. His sister has excellent taste, he has to say. She's going to make a ton of money for the shelter, and it will be vaguely uncomfortable, but at least it's genuinely a good cause.

"Hey, guys! Thank you all so much for coming. You all should know me, I'm Octavia. I work at the Arcadia Animal Shelter, and we really, really appreciate your volunteering to help out with this. You're going to help us take care of a lot of animals, so give yourselves a hand."

He and Clarke exchange a look, but the she grins and starts clapping, throws in a cheer for good measure. It's impossible not to smile at her enthusiasm; he likes people who support his sister, even when he doesn't actually _like them_.

"So, here's how it's going to work. We're doing the bachelor auction first, which hopefully shouldn't take more than an hour or so. Then there's a fifteen minute intermission, and we come back for the bachelorettes. It's pretty straight-forward. I'll be emceeing, so if you have any last-minute changes to the blurbs I sent you or think I don't know how to say your name, come tell me now. Otherwise, grab a drink if you need some liquid courage and get pumped!"

"You're better at motivational speeches," Clarke remarks. 

"I did my best, but she doesn't have the gift. I assume you want some alcohol?"

"Safe bet. Let's go." 

They both get a shot, because their friendship, to the extent that it exists, involves a lot of drinking together, so shots are always important. And then they get regular drinks to sip, like adults.

"I bet I go for more money than you do," he finds himself saying, for no reason he can fathom.

"Stupid bet," she says. "I think you start with a higher opening bid than I do."

"Really?"

"You're dinner and an event, I'm just dinner. If I go for more than you do, I'll be sad for you."

"Wow, thanks. Now I'm going to feel really shitty if that happens."

She smiles. "Always glad to help. Win/win for me, lose/lose for you."

"My favorite."

Octavia calls for the bachelors to line up backstage and Clarke claps him on the back. "Good luck."

"Thanks. You too."

The auction itself moves at a good pace. Octavia might not have his skill with inspirational speeches, but her flair for the dramatic is well-suited to this, psyching the audience up and goading them into increasing the bids. He's still basically wary of the entire endeavor, but he has to admit that it's probably the most profitable fundraiser his sister could have come up with for her skill set. She's making a killing.

"Okay, so, this next bachelor is kind of weird for me. He's a great guy and obviously I want to hype him up for you, but he's also my big brother, so I'm basically required to say he's a giant nerd. So let's see how this goes. Everybody give it up for Bellamy Blake!"

There's plenty of enthusiasm for him from the introduction alone, and it only increases once he's center-stage, smiling nervously. People are definitely wolf-whistling. It's both flattering and a little overwhelming. There's a _crowd_.

He manages a kind of dorky wave, and he hears Octavia huff. "Yeah, see, this is what I'm working with. Bell here is thirty-two years old, single, and bisexual. He's got a PhD and two cats, and he loves kids, animals, history, and getting into fights with bigots on the internet. If you care about astrology, he's a Capricorn, but if you care about astrology he's probably not a good match for you. He's the director of the Arcadian History Museum _and_ the historical society. If you win him tonight you get not only a free dinner at Porter's but also a private, behind-the-scenes tour of the museum. It's a pretty awesome deal and--and I am just saying this once--he's a pretty great guy. So let's start the bidding off at two hundred bucks."

"Two hundred!" calls a pretty brunette.

"Three hundred!" calls a guy.

"Three fifty!"

It's kind of flattering, honestly, if a little uncomfortable. He's not sure he likes having people assigning monetary worth to spending a day with him, even if they're valuing it highly. It certainly beats no one bidding on him, but still. This is fucking weird and he's never doing it again.

"Okay, eight hundred," O says, once the bidding seems to be dying down. "Going once, going--"

"Nine hundred!" Clarke calls.

It's definitely Clarke. He can _see her_ ; the lights aren't that bright. She's sitting in the audience, casually _bidding on him_ , looking like--well, like Clarke. Like this is normal.

"Nine hundred," says Octavia. It might be his imagination, but he thinks she sounds smug.

The previous high bidder is a pretty girl who seems--fine. It's not like he can develop much of an opinion on her, given his only data point is that she's kind of pretty and apparently has enough money to throw it away on him. Which is not really a data point in her favor. To the extent that there's a good kind of rich, Clarke is it; he doesn't know about any of the others.

"Nine fifty," says the other woman.

"One thousand," says Clarke, easy.

The other woman shoots her a glare. "One thousand fifty."

He can see her sigh, like this is a great burden. "Fine. Fifteen hundred."

Bellamy chokes, and the other woman bidding doesn't look much better. Octavia gives the bid a second to sit, and then she says, "Okay, fifteen hundred. Do I hear fifteen fifty? Fifteen twenty-five? Okay then, Going one, going twice, and sold to a woman who knows exactly what she wants."

Maybe Octavia and Clarke know what she wants, but Bellamy has no fucking clue; his only theory is that it's to really, really piss off the other woman. Which does sound like something Clarke would do. He's pretty sure about half of what runs her is spite. If anything, he's kind of insulted she's more interested in spiting the other woman than she is in spiting him. He thought she loved spiting him.

There's a line for people waiting to pay in the back of the hall, and Clarke's at the end of it. There are two more bachelors after him, which will probably take about ten minutes, maybe fifteen. And then the intermission. He _could_ talk to Clarke, but would that be weird? No one else is talking to the people who won them, not that he can see. But maybe no one else knows the person who won them.

One of the other bachelors solves the dilemma for him, since he apparently wants to hear more about the historical society, and Bellamy's always happy to talk about the historical society for as long as anyone will let him talk. By the time they're finished, intermission is mostly over and Clarke's gone to the back to wait for her own auction.

But the other woman finds him while he's debating if he should leave.

"Do you know Clarke?" she asks.

"Uh, kind of," he says. "Yeah. Not well or anything, but--yeah. She's friends with my sister."

"Hm. If I'd known she knew you, I wouldn't have even bothered," says the woman. "Even if she didn't, I'm sure she would have done it just to deprive me. It's not as if she has any interest in history."

From what he knows, it's true, but he doesn't really care to talk to the woman about it. "You know you can just get a tour, right?" he asks instead, a little confused. "It's not like this is some one-time offer no one else can get in on. You're welcome any time." He can't help adding, "How do you know Clarke?"

"One bad date," she says. Something seems to occur to her. "Is she up for auction as well?"

It's not like she's not going to find out. "Yeah."

"Hm. Well, if she can bid on a date she doesn't want, so can I." She looks in her bag and finds a business card: _Ontari Freda: Consultant_. "I would be very interested in a tour sometime. Give me a call."

Honestly, he'd been planning to leave after his own auction was done, but--well, he's kind of worried about Clarke now. He doesn't know exactly what weird shit he got dragged into with the two of them, but Clarke was either saving him or spiting this girl, and either way, he probably owes her to try to keep her from getting dragged into a shitty second date.

Or something.

Clarke's the last bachelorette of the night, he assumes because his sister hates him and somehow _knew_ he was going to have to stick around to make sure nothing weird happened. Which she couldn't possibly have predicted, right? This whole situation is fucked up. Even Octavia couldn't have seen this coming.

"Our last bachelorette for tonight is Clarke Griffin! If you think I left her for last because she's kind of famous, you're right. She's definitely our most well-known participant. I know everyone's out of money by this point, so I'm hoping she's desirable enough for you guys to go into debt for her. Come on out, Clarke!"

She looks shyer than usual, young and a little nervous, and Bellamy finds his heart unexpectedly in his throat. He wants this to go well. It's a weird feeling, and he's not really comfortable with it.

"So, Clarke is twenty-eight, um--you're a Sagittarius, right? I don't know why I'm giving everyone's signs, but I'm not stopping now. Clarke is doing her pediatrics residency, so she knows how to interact with sick kids, and her mom is our governor, which is why she could pay so much for my brother. She's a bisexual artist who loves drinking, trivia, dismantling the patriarchy, and videos where two different kinds of animals make friends. For the low price of a hundred dollars, you get dinner with her at Porter's. So, do I hear one hundred?"

The bidding is fairly laid back, rising slowly in increments of twenty-five, Bellamy assumes because everyone is tired and a lot of the people actually are somewhat broke. He's the only one who sold for over a thousand bucks, but even three- to five-hundred dollars is way too much, as far as he's concerned. He didn't really budget for this.

He realizes, slowly, that Ontari isn't bidding and doesn't actually seem to be around, and Clarke is probably safe. He could just--go.

"Five hundred!" says O. "Going once, going--"

"Five fifty," Bellamy says.

Clarke and O both jerk their heads to stare at him; O breaks out in a grin, and Clarke just looks confused. "Five fifty," says O. "Do I hear six?"

He did the math while he was waiting for Clarke to go up; he can't really afford anything, honestly, but he could make anything up to eight hundred dollars work, if he had to. Just to show Clarke. She's not the only one who can spend ridiculous amounts of money on a date she's not actually interested in. He can do that just as well as she can.

It's possible this is not his best plan.

"Okay, five fifty," says O. "Going one, going twice, sold to my idiot brother who looks like he ate an entire lemon. Good job, Bell."

Yeah, definitely not his best plan.

*

He's giving his payment and contact information to Fox at the payment table when Clarke finds him. Her face is calm, impassive, and impossible to read; it's one of the things he envies about her. Bellamy tends to have trouble hiding how he's feeling. And right now, he doesn't even know, so he has no idea what Clarke is finding on his face.

"Hey," he says.

"Hi." She worries her lip, which is encouraging. Any time she pauses, that's a good sign. "You must really like Porter's."

"You must really hate Ontari." He turns his full attention to his credit card, faithfully copying down the numbers. He's made large, stupid purchases on it before; this probably isn't even the weirdest. He has a history of getting drunk and buying expensive medieval weaponry at the ren faire. "I know you said whoever won was going to skip the tour, but are you going to just skip the whole thing? Or do you really like Porter's too?"

There's another pause. "You know Ontari?" she finally asks.

"Not really. She came over to say hi. Apparently she was really interested in the tour."

"Sorry, did you want me to give it to her?"

Her voice is sharp enough he actually looks up, and she's _pissed_ , much more than he thought she would be. "Fuck, no," he says, with feeling. "She seemed like a total asshole. I owe you one for getting me out of it. So, you know. Dinner."

"That's why?" she asks, sounding wary.

"Ontari said she was going to bid on you to, you know. Show you, I guess? Didn't seem like I could just let her do it."

"She didn't even try," Clarke points out, which is reasonable. "Did you think someone worse was winning?"

It would be a great excuse, but what he comes up with is, "I assume you're looking for a shitty date with me. Fair's fair. I want a shitty date with you, too."

In retrospect, it's the absolute weirdest thing he could have said, and Clarke seems to realize it too. "You--" she starts, but O bounces up, drapes her arm around Clarke's shoulders.

"Wow, guys. That was--wow. Thanks for single-handedly raising two thousand dollars for the shelter."

"Two thousand and fifty," Bellamy corrects, because that's obviously important. That's the real issue.

"Sorry, my bad," Octavia says, rolling her eyes. "I don't want to downplay your philanthropy."

"That's us," Clarke agrees. "Always giving." She shoots Bellamy another unreadable look. "Could I do the tour on Saturday?"

"Next Saturday?"

"Yeah. Tour and dinner. Is that okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

"Awesome. Text me what time you want me to show up." She gives Octavia a hug. "You did a great job with this. Congratulations."

"Thanks," says O.

"Later," Bellamy says, and pointedly doesn't look at his sister. Or anything else. 

"That went well," she remarks anyway, once Clarke has gone. "Really smooth."

"I wasn't trying to be smooth," he says. "She started it."

"Oh good, you're jumping right to that, so I don't even have to feel for bad pointing out that you're acting like a child. Thanks for saving me the trouble."

"How am I acting like a child?"

" _She started it_?"

"Okay, not my finest moment. But she did."

"Only you could turn this into a _fight_ ," says Octavia. She sounds both impressed and horrified. "There are romantic comedies with this exact plot, you know that, right? Like--she bid on you. Why are you assuming it's a bad thing?"

"What?" he asks, with genuine confusion.

"Why is your assumption when a girl pays fifteen hundred bucks for a date with you that she _doesn't_ want to go out with you? Like--who spends that much money on a date they're going to hate?"

Bellamy opens and closes his mouth. "Do you know something I don't?"

"I know a lot of things you don't. But about this specific thing, no. I just know you and Clarke are always _talking to each other_ , and I don't actually go find people I hate to argue with them."

"Yeah, you do," he points out.

"Okay, yeah, but--not like you find Clarke."

She does have him there. Bellamy doesn't treat anyone else he hates like he treats Clarke, because he actually hates them. "So, what, you think it's a _date_?"

"I think you shouldn't rule it out. Occam's razor, right? The simplest explanation for a girl bidding on you in a bachelor auction is probably that she wants to go out with you."

"Yeah, but it's Clarke," he points out. "She'd definitely spend fifteen hundred bucks just to piss someone off."

"Just think about trying not to fuck this up any worse than you already did, okay? That's all I ask."

"I'm not making any promises," he grumbles, and she rolls her eyes. 

"Yeah. That sounds like you."

*

Bellamy doesn't really interact with Clarke much, so it's not like _not_ interacting with her is weird or upsetting or anything. It should be normal. But Octavia got in his head, because--what if Clarke _did_ mean it? He doesn't know what to do with that. 

He also doesn't know what to do with his bid on her, because he really doesn't have an excuse, now that he thinks about it. Some perfectly decent guy was going to win her, and he outbid him at the last minute for no reason except that Clarke had won him, and he didn't want her to be the only one.

So, yeah, he feels like he should be talking to her. Trying to be nice or something. 

Everything about this is uncharted territory.

On Wednesday, he texts her about the schedule for the tour, and they manage to set it up for 5:30, after the museum is closed, in completely civil manner. It could be an indication she's upset that he didn't realize she wanted a date, or an indication that it's not a date, or none of the above. In terms of helpful communications, it's--well, it's helpful in that they have a plan for the date, but not helpful in terms of answering his questions about their relationship.

Which means it's really hard to prepare for Saturday. Should he be taking it seriously? Should he wear a tie? He's never worn a tie on a date before, but he also hasn't ever fucked up before the date starts this badly before.

Well, the potential date. The whatever it is.

Fucking Octavia. She's probably just messing with him.

He wears his usual outfit, khakis and a button-down, and tries not to fret for all of Saturday. It's unfortunately not very effective, and all of his docents can tell that he's nervous about something. Once they get him to admit what, it just gets worse, of course. The docents are mostly older women, and they think it's cute that he's giving a _nice girl_ a private tour. 

"It's been such a long time since you broke up with that boy Nathan," says Deirdre. "I think we were all worried about you."

"Thanks," he says. It comes out genuine, because he has trouble being sarcastic at Deirdre. She means so well. "It's not really anything, though. Just a tour."

"Well, you look very handsome," says Deirdre. "And she's lucky to be getting a private tour from you. Don't think she isn't."

He ducks his head. "Yeah. I'll keep that in mind."

Clarke texts just before five to say she's running late-- _just a few minutes, I hope, sorry!!_ \--which weirdly makes him feel better. She's checking in, wants to make sure he doesn't think she's blowing him off or anything. That's a good sign. If nothing else, it probably means she's not going to blow him off.

She still shows up only maybe a minute late, and he's not waiting for her because he assumed that _a few minutes_ would be something like fifteen. But, no, she's just paranoid, and that's awesome too.

She's leaning against her car when he goes to get her, all dressed up, like she's going to the fucking _opera_ , and he embarrasses himself by going kind of slack-jawed. It's not like he hasn't seen her dressed up before--she was dressed up for the auction--he just didn't expect her to go all out for a tour of his stupid little museum.

Her smile is sheepish. "Hey, sorry. My mom decided I needed to go to an event with her. I got out as early as I could, but--"

"Oh," he says, shaking himself. "No, yeah, that's fine. Sorry, you should have said. We could have rescheduled if you were busy."

Now she grins. "Trust me, I was thrilled to have an excuse to get out of a fundraising picnic. I just wish I could have gotten out of it sooner."

"Should have just lied about when we were meeting," he says. "So, uh--I've never actually given a private tour before, so I don't know what I should be doing. Have you been here before?"

"Yeah, a couple times."

"Really?"

"What, that's so hard to believe?" she asks, all mock outrage.

"It's not exactly a popular spot for, uh--" He considers. "We usually get tourists and people over sixty who need hobbies. Pretty much."

"Well, I was a tourist once. I came here when I was visiting, to see about doing my residency here. I saw you, actually."

He blinks. "Really?"

"You were giving a tour while I was wandering around. You talk with your hands. It's noticeable. I listened in for a while."

"Huh," he says, and hopes he's not blushing. They hadn't even met, but she remembered him. She never said.

"Then when my mom was thinking about moving to the city, I brought her here. It was on my tour of places she'd hate," she adds, and he snorts. " _I_ like it," she says. "But it's not my mom's thing."

"Okay, so, what do you like?"

"Honestly, the house is fine, but--I prefer the garden. Sometimes I come and sketch here, on your days off."

"On my days off?" he asks.

She flushes again; it's amazing, how much she's blushing. Octavia really might have been right. "I thought it might be weird for you, if I came while you were here."

"No, not weird," he says. "So, uh, you want a tour of the grounds? There's actually some pretty cool stuff. We can go in the play house."

It's like he flipped a switch; she lights up like she's never heard anything better. "Really?"

"I'm the director," he says. "I get all the perks. That's why you should tell me when you come by. You're rich, you're supposed to be good at taking advantage of your connections."

"I didn't know you were a connection," she says. "But yeah. A tour of the grounds sounds great."

*

Bellamy has never spent more than about ten minutes actually _alone_ with Clarke Griffin. They tend to see each other at group events, for trivia and board game nights and birthday parties. And it's true that they tend to hang out at those, but it's _different_. 

Maybe it's just that they're both being nice. It's not like he didn't know they had a lot in common. He knew she was cool, even. He just didn't think she liked him, so he wasn't going to like her either. It's a defense tactic, and he supposes it _is_ childish. Acting like he doesn't want things, just because he doesn't think he can get them.

But he and Clarke have always gotten along pretty well, at heart. And when it's just the two of them, walking around the grounds, Bellamy telling whatever stories come to his mind about the family, the grounds, the house, Clarke responding in kind, it's actually _nice_. Fun and friendly and great.

It's not until she shivers a little that he realizes it's gotten dark, and he's hungry.

"Dinner?" he offers.

"Yeah, probably."

"I need to grab some stuff from the office; you want to call ahead and warn them we're coming? I told them we were doing it tonight but I didn't have a specific time."

"Yeah, sure. Do you have your bike?"

"Yeah."

"It would fit in the back of my car, if you want a ride."

"That would be great, thanks."

He grabs his bag and a few other things from his office and gets his bike unlocked; Clarke already has the back seat folded down with a drop sheet on top of it, like she planned around him. Then again, there are paint spatters on the sheet, so maybe it's just for transporting paintings. 

Either way, it's encouraging. It's a nice day.

"Here," he says, offering her his coat. She blinks at it, and he says, "It's getting cold. I have sleeves. You don't."

"Oh. Thanks." She shrugs the coat on, smiles. "They'll have a table for us in fifteen minutes, so just about perfect."

"Yeah," he agrees. "Just about."

He worries, once they're driving, about having anything to say to her, without the museum tour to give them a topic. But she asks him if Octavia's having any trouble in the aftermath of the bachelor auction, and telling her about how one of the winners apparently had a girlfriend and Octavia basically got drawn into a bizarre domestic dispute. That gets Clarke talking about a guy who used her to really ineptly cheat on his girlfriend in college, which reminds him of the time Gina's ex refused to accept that she'd broken up with him, so Bellamy posed as her new boyfriend and they had an incredibly over-dramatic fake fight in the dining hall about how she was cheating on him. 

"Honestly, we were having so much fun with it I think he decided it was a fetish or something."

"Was he freaked out or into it?" she asks, laughing.

"Hard to tell. I wasn't going to ask."

"So what you're telling me you missed out on having a cuckolding fantasy threesome? Come on, Bellamy."

"Hey, it was college. I hadn't figure out my fetishes yet. I'd barely figured out human interaction. It was another year before I noticed Gina wanted to date me."

"Yeah?" she asks, laughter still in her voice. "How did you figure it out?"

"It was college, so we got drunk and hooked up, were awkward about it for a week, and then actually had a conversation and started dating. The usual."

"Why did you guys break up?"

"She was two years younger than I was. We hooked up in my senior year. I graduated and went to grad school, so we broke up. Nothing very exciting. Why?"

She's driving, so he wouldn't expect her to look at him, but it feels like she's very pointedly _not_ looking at him. "I don't really know much about you, I guess. And a lot of it is from Octavia."

"Well," he says. "We've got all night. What do you want to know?"

*

By the end of the night, Bellamy still isn't completely sure Clarke Griffin wants to date him, but he knows without a doubt that he wants to date her. She's smart and funny and sharp, full of strong opinions and good ideas. Once he starts thinking about it, he realizes he's kind of always known that about her, but--again, he's too stubborn to like people who won't like him in return.

He likes Clarke, and he even thinks Clarke might feel the same, but he still doesn't know what to do about it.

On the bright side, he has another date with her.

On Tuesday, he still hasn't actually figured out how to put these two things together, so he calls his sister.

"So, let's say I'm an idiot."

"You are," she says, right on cue. "Good date?"

"Yeah, I had a great time. What do I do now?"

"Ask her out. Do you need me to draw you a map? I know you've gotten laid before, what's the problem?"

"Getting laid is easy," he says, and it's true. He's pretty good at hookups, but feelings are a disaster. He's never been any good at making the first move, not when he's really invested. Not when his feelings might get hurt. "Dating sucks."

"God, you're pathetic. You have another date with her, right?"

"Yeah, but I have to set it up."

"I was joking about the map, but you might really need it. Bell, she likes you. Just call her."

In all honesty, Octavia is the only person Bellamy talks to on the phone with any regularity, and even that's not that regularly. He hates the phone. About half his time at work is spent trying to figure out how he can avoid using the phone. Calling Clarke sounds like the worst of all the ideas he's come up with, and given some of his ideas, that's saying something.

"Can I text her instead?"

"Use a passenger pigeon, I don't care. Just talk to her. You're overthinking this way too much, even for you."

"Thanks. I don't know why I thought this would help."

"I'm giving you moral support," she says. "I'm pretty sure all you have to do is ask."

"That's what I'm hearing, yeah." He rubs his face. "Okay, well. Thanks for the pep talk, O. Good balance of helpful feedback and outright disdain. You're getting better at these."

"If you haven't talked to her in three days I'm going to tell her my brother like-likes her. Since we're working the middle-school angle here."

"I'll keep you posted."

In the end, he texts to ask her when she's free for dinner, and she sends back her schedule within ten minutes, with apparent enthusiasm. He asks if she wants to do Saturday again, maybe stop by the museum to hang out while he finishes up with work, and she's enthusiastic about that too. Which is all very encouraging, and he really thinks it might go his way.

But--she's also free on Thursday, and he figures he could try out romance. Just to see how it goes for him.

He's at her door after work when he realizes that most of the things pop culture has taught him are romantic are also kind of creepy, so this might not be his best plan. But he's come this far, so he figures he might as well just go with it. He's pretty sure Clarke is actually going to find this whole awkward story, if not endearing, then at least funny.

There's no response when he knocks, but he does get a text, which is just Clarke asking, _Is that you??_ Which is kind of adorable, actually.

"It's me!" he yells, and she opens the door in her pajamas, looking somewhat wary.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

"Uh, honestly? I wanted to ask you out on a date. You said you were free tonight. It seemed like a cool gesture basically up until I got here and realized how much I wouldn't want someone to just show up and ask me to hang out on no notice. So just tell me to fuck off any time."

Clarke's laughing again. "Wow. You really know how to woo a girl."

"It's amazing how much I don't. Seriously, it's been sad. Ask Octavia how stupid I've been about this."

"Or you could just come in and tell me yourself. How do you feel about take out? For dates."

He swallows. "Really good." 

When she opens the door wider, he follows her inside to her couch. She was apparently drinking wine and watching Jeopardy, so it would be _great_ if he didn't mess this up. That's basically his ideal Thursday.

"So--dates," she prompts. "And stupidity."

"I really had no idea why you bid on me," he admits. "Ontari gave me an explanation, which was that you wanted to fuck with her, which made more sense to me than anything else. But then Octavia told me probably the best explanation for you bidding on me was just that you wanted to go on a date with me."

He sees her take a breath. "That's a situation where you can both be right, honestly." 

"Were we?"

"You're--yeah." She smiles down at her hands. "You're cute, Bellamy. I felt like it was a good gesture."

"Yeah, it definitely should have been. But I'm not great at reading between the lines. Or, uh, reading the _actual_ lines." She smiles again, and he shifts a little closer. "In my defense, I thought you were out of my league, so it had to be a trap."

"That's what you're going with?"

"I want to buy you dinner. Nothing to do with the auction. Just--dinner. That's what I'm going with. Asking you out. Very unambiguous."

"What a concept." She's still not looking at him, but he can see her bite her lip. "What about Saturday?"

"I'm hoping this date doesn't suck so much you never want another one."

Finally, she lets herself laugh, grins up at him. "It might. You are really bad at this."

He leans down to press his mouth against hers. "I really am. But maybe I'll get better. You want to find out?"

She winds her arms around his neck and pulls him back in. "Yeah," she says. "Let's find out."


End file.
